


Command Performance

by Anonymous



Category: Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: Aliens Made Them Do It, Anal Sex, Aphrodisiacs, Comeplay, Courting Rituals, Diplomacy, Dom Spock (Star Trek), First Time, For Science!, Large Cock, Linguistics, M/M, Mission Fic, Misunderstandings, Multi, Or gave them an excuse anyway, Oral Sex, POV James T. Kirk, Porn with Feelings, Self-Lubrication, Semi-Public Sex, Size Kink, Threesome - M/M/M, Vulcan Biology
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-19
Updated: 2021-03-19
Packaged: 2021-03-28 03:14:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,189
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30133137
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Kirk, Spock, and McCoy are sent on a first-contact away mission. There may have been some misunderstandings about what the newly encountered humanoids want from them.
Relationships: James T. Kirk/Leonard "Bones" McCoy/Spock
Comments: 4
Kudos: 5
Collections: Kink Lucky Dip





	Command Performance

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kingstoken](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kingstoken/gifts).



> Content note: premise is dubcon, and there’s a little pressuring, but everyone participating agrees to it before any sexual activity starts.

~~~  
_Captain’s Log, Stardate 3821.4_

_The Enterprise has been sent on a diplomatic mission to the homeworld of a humanoid species called the B’etti. They are not well known, but are believed to be a highly advanced, peaceful civilization, and they might be willing to trade us much-needed dilithium crystals._

_By order of the Admiral, the mission complement will be myself, Mr Spock, and Dr McCoy. Formally noting for the record that Chief Engineer Scott has objected to sending all three senior officers on an away mission, with no security. However, I deem the risk to be minimal._  
~~~

“Now you’ve done it, Jim! You’ve really done it!” 

McCoy’s angry whisper echoed off the walls of the cell they’d been “escorted” into, before their communicators and other equipment had been taken, over their protests. “Scotty and I _told_ you...”

Kirk knew what was coming. He interrupted. 

“You can say ‘I told you so’ all you want once we’re back on the _Enterprise,_ Bones. But for now, let’s concentrate on figuring out what to do next.” 

Kirk paced around the large, round platform in the center of the room. With its metal rails, it resembled a twentieth-century children’s merry-go-round. He felt himself growing more and more agitated. Finally he picked up one of the pillows from the platform and punched it, then flung it against the wall. The pointless action slightly eased his self-recriminations.

Spock silently retrieved the cushion and replaced it on the platform. “Captain, if I may. The first thing we need to do is to find out what the B’etti want with us. They seem to be a logical race; thus, they are likely to have imprisoned us for a rational reason—at least, rational to them. As they do not have telepathic abilities, they are unlikely to expect us already to know what they want. Logic suggests they will—”

There was a scraping sound, and the door to the chamber opened, letting in bright light from the corridor beyond. Several B’etti entered the room. 

If Kirk had been less on edge, he would have found them interesting. They were outliers among humanoid species, with streamlined bodies and sleek fur hinting at a marine origin. 

One of them wore a hat that was almost a meter tall. This individual clapped their hands. Their limbs were so short that they could only just reach to slap one webbed palm against the other. 

The hatted individual began speaking a language of squeals and barks. Another spoke in English, translating.

“This is Aulid, the Presenter,” the translator said. “He bids you welcome and thanks you for agreeing to perform for us.”

Kirk’s patience snapped. 

He stormed forward, pointing a finger at the one named Aulid. “We want answers, Mister—” 

Spock, who had stepped up behind him, put a hand on Kirk’s shoulder, just beside his neck. 

Once he had felled Kirk with a nerve pinch, to prevent his overreaction in a diplomacy negotiation from devolving to “photon torpedoes at thirty parsecs.” 

They’d discussed the incident later in Spock’s cell in the brig, where he was awaiting Kirk’s decision whether to court-martial him. 

“I had no choice. You are a savvy negotiator with hostile or suspicious races, but not the best at subtler situations,” Spock had told him, implacably honest as always. 

”You’re right, Mr Spock, but you can’t just go around knocking me out. That doesn’t look good in negotiations either.” 

“Next time, I’ll remind you before you act,” Spock promised, and Kirk had promised in turn not to send him to court-martial for attacking a superior officer.

“I believe Aulid and the other B’etti are preparing to offer some answers,” Spock now murmured in Kirk’s ear.

Kirk subsided.

Aulid opened his muzzle to show two rows of sharp teeth. A smile? Or a threat? Kirk didn’t know. The Presenter exchanged a glance with his companions, then spoke briefly. The translator said:

“Presenter Aulid accepts that excitability is a trait of the best performers. No offense is taken.”

Kirk opened his mouth again and then muttered “Ow!” Spock had pinched the back of his upper arm this time. 

“The performance is scheduled to begin in two tetrads,” Aulid told them. He indicated the round platform. “This is your stage. The cameras will record your performance from all angles and prepare a three-dimensional holographic file. I hope you will be pleased to know that this recording will have pride of place in our museum of xenology. We have recordings of the sexual acts of most intelligent species in this part of the galaxy, but none of you absolutely _gorgeous_ humans and—this species.” He broke off, gesturing in the direction of Spock’s ears.

This time it was McCoy who muttered “Ow!” instead of “Now just a cotton-pickin’ minute...”

“I am half Vulcan and half human,” Spock told the B’etti, reacting not at all to McCoy’s stifled outburst. 

“Let us know how we may prepare the stage for your comfort.” Aulid concluded with another teeth-baring grin.

“We wish a moment to speak among ourselves,” Spock said. 

~~~

“What in _tarnation_ is going on?!” cried McCoy after the B’etti had withdrawn.

“It appears Starfleet Command’s Universal Translator may have made an error,” Spock said. “Jim, what did the Admiral tell you about this visit?”

“She said they wanted to meet the three most senior members of the crew, and they wanted to know more about the expansion of the human species. I assumed they wanted to know our intentions are peaceful,” said Kirk. “In exchange they would let us trade for dilithium crystals.”

“It would help me immensely to have access to the original message,” Spock muttered, with a rare show of frustration. “Is that how she phrased it, verbatim?”

Kirk frowned. “No, actually. I remember thinking it was strange at the time. She didn’t say ‘senior’ members of the crew. She said...’best’. We both assumed they meant the top officers.”

Spock raised an eyebrow. “Fascinating, Captain. And how about ‘expansion of the human species’? Is that verbatim?”

“I don’t remember! And I can’t check my log, because they took away our equipment.” Kirk started pacing again.

“I wonder if the B’etti meant ‘reproduction’. Since that appears to be what they are asking us to do.”

McCoy couldn’t be contained any longer. “Let me get this straight. The B’etti want us—the three of us—to _fuck? On camera?”_

“That is indeed the request they seem to be making,” Spock affirmed.

“Hell to the no!” cried McCoy. “I’m a doctor, not a...a...studmuffin!” 

Another raised eyebrow from the science officer. “‘Hell to the no.’ A most unusual phrase, Doctor. I have not heard you use it before.”

McCoy blushed. “I like twenty-first century music, so sue me,” he muttered.

“What is ‘sumi’?” asked Spock.

“Gentlemen!” Kirk interrupted. “A little more focus here!”

McCoy’s expression turned sheepishly defiant. Spock seemed part concerned and part intrigued—the same way he looked when he encountered a new form of life that had more than four legs.

Kirk lowered his voice and spoke gently. “Bones, they think we’ve already agreed to do it. We don’t know much about their culture. If we refuse now, there might be consequences.”

McCoy’s face went beet-red. “I...I can’t,” he said in a whisper.

Kirk took him by the shoulders and gazed earnestly into his face. “I certainly won’t order you to. But if you mean you can’t...rise to the occasion, don’t worry about it. That doesn’t have to be part of the act for all of us.”

“That’s not it,” McCoy said miserably. He involuntarily glanced at Spock. 

Kirk guessed at the meaning behind the glance. “You don’t have to touch Spock if you don’t want to, either,” he reassured the doctor. “I know you’re a little uncomfortable with his body...”

“Jim, if I may.” 

Spock moved Kirk’s hands off McCoy’s shoulders and replaced them with his own. He turned McCoy to face him. 

McCoy hung his head, refusing to look Spock in the eye.

“I would prefer that we had more time to discuss this,” said Spock, “but for now, perhaps it will suffice to say that I know of, and reciprocate, your desire. I have not spoken before now because I have little experience with human courtship. I have been researching it in my spare time, but—”

McCoy was staring at Spock, his mouth making the shape of an O.

Spock stroked McCoy’s cheek with his knuckles. “If I understand the rituals correctly, the next step is for me to ask if I may kiss you.”

There was a moment of electrified stillness.

McCoy grabbed Spock’s head with both hands and mashed their lips together.

~~~

A few minutes later, Kirk made an uncharacteristically timid cough. 

“Gentlemen, have we an accord that we will proceed with what the B’etti want from us?”

McCoy’s lips were swollen. He looked down at the erection straining the fabric of his trousers, then at Spock. 

“Hell to the yes,” he muttered.

“I am also in accord,” said Spock. His hair was tousled from McCoy’s hands. “But first, there is something I must share with you both. It is...difficult.”

He gripped one of the metal rails so hard his knuckles turned white. 

“It has to do with my reproductive biology,” he said. “As you know, this is a subject Vulcans are very private about.”

“Is it taboo for you to participate? What we do will be recorded and shown to the public. At least to the B’etti public.” 

“It will be frowned upon. The loophole, as I see it, is that I’m half-human. It can be claimed my sexual behavior is not representative.”

“All right then. Anything else?”

“As you might know, my species used to be competitive and warlike. We learned to control our violent emotions, but they remain part of our sexual biology—This is why reproduction for us is so ritualized.”

“You mean you’re feral in bed?” McCoy was frustrated with Spock’s “Vulcan English” as usual. “Why do you take forty words to explain it when you can say it in four?”

Spock ignored him. “I have occasionally had human sexual partners and I was able to control my nature. But I cannot guarantee that will be the case here. With you and Jim, my emotions are much more...engaged.”

“Will you lose so much control that you can’t respect ‘no’ or ‘stop’?” Kirk asked.

“I will respect ‘no’ or ‘stop’. But there is a second thing I need to disclose.”

“Which is?” McCoy snapped impatiently. 

“To be maximally concise and use the human vernacular, I strongly prefer to take a dominant role in sexual encounters.”

“You’re a top,” said McCoy curtly.

“No,” Kirk corrected, “Spock’s saying he’s a dom. There’s a difference.” 

“Potato, potahto, top-mato, dom-ato. Can we _get on with it?”_ grumbled McCoy. “I just found out Spock wants to fuck me. I’m _aching._ I’ll take him any way he wants and three times on Sundays.”

“Is there anything we need to request from the Presenter?” Kirk asked.

Spock stared at McCoy’s bulging trousers, eyebrow raised. “Lubricant might be useful.”

~~~

Aulid’s team brought lubricant, lengths of soft rope, and a variety of paddles.

“We didn’t ask for these,” Kirk told the B’etti.

“Oh, do humans not use these in sexual activity?” Aulid’s translator said. “Many species find that they heighten the pleasure.”

Kirk interrupted. “Sometimes we do, but...” He was stymied for words.

“We propose to demonstrate the basics to start with,” Spock cut in. “No doubt once we begin trade with your people, future human visitors will be happy to demonstrate more...complex activities.”

“Very good point, Vulcan-Spock,” said Aulid. “Your species’ reputation for logic and intelligence is obviously well deserved.”

Spock bowed his head slightly. 

“Once we’ve finished setting up the recording equipment, just do what comes naturally,” the Presenter told them. “We will leave to give you privacy.” Then at a nudge from one of his entourage, he added, “—unless your people prefer to perform the act in public.”

“Most of us like privacy better,” Kirk said.

As the B’etti did mysterious things with mysterious bits of technology in the walls and floors, Kirk found himself becoming anxious. The three of them hadn’t discussed what his role would be in the performance. 

He wanted both Spock and McCoy, but in different ways.

He thought he’d seen signs of attraction from Spock, especially after he’d participated in the Vulcan’s Pon Farr ritual a year ago. But they’d gone no further than speculative glances, moments when they lingered in each other’s personal space, a hand gratuitously placed on the other’s shoulder. 

As for McCoy, Kirk had never been able to entirely dismiss that one post-party makeout session. It had been more than two years ago, and the furthest they’d gotten was groping each other over their trousers. But even now, when he looked at McCoy too intently, he could remember the taste of his lips, the way the doctor’s hand had felt against his cock. Did McCoy remember? Did he want to do such things again? Would McCoy and Spock want to concentrate on each other?

The last B’etti technician exited, shutting the door to the chamber, and the three of them were alone. For a long moment, they all simply gazed at each other.

“Well, gentlemen,” Kirk said. “I believe we need to be on the ‘stage’ for what’s to follow.”

He stepped onto the circular platform. McCoy and Spock joined him. 

There was another moment of stillness. 

“If no one else wants to get the party started, I will,” said Kirk. He took McCoy’s face in his hands. “Bones, how about taking up where we left off two years ago?” 

McCoy’s mouth dropped open for the second time that day. ”Jim! You remember it too?”

”Fuck yes, Bones. Why have I waited so long for this?” Kirk kissed him.

McCoy melted in his arms, eagerly accepting Kirk’s tongue into his mouth.

“Spock, come help me take care of him,” Kirk said a moment later.

Spock pressed himself against McCoy from behind. His arms snaked around the doctor’s middle until his hands were trapped between his chest and Kirk’s. His hands seemed warmer than usual, Kirk thought. 

Spock let out a growl that Kirk had never heard before, and found wildly arousing.

McCoy struggled, suddenly alarmed. “What!? Who voted me into the middle?” 

“If you would prefer some other arrangement, that is fine,” said Spock. But he pressed closer to McCoy, kissing the side of his neck, then running the tip of his tongue down it, until the doctor groaned his name.

“Yes, Bones, if you _don’t_ want the two of us to wreck you with pleasure, let us know.” Kirk stroked McCoy’s lips with his thumb. 

”Otherwise, it is a certainty that we will,” Spock murmured darkly. 

“When you put it like that, I suppose it _is_ my turn to take one for the team.” The doctor swayed and would have fallen, but he was caught between two strong bodies. 

“Take two for the team,” corrected Kirk. 

Kirk took his time with the kiss. McCoy tasted even better than he remembered. 

Meanwhile, Spock was exploring the doctor’s body in a slow, methodical way, just as Kirk had (frequently) imagined he would. 

McCoy moaned into Kirk’s mouth each time Spock started experimenting on a part of him that was especially sensitive.

Soon his shirt was bunched under his armpits. Kirk was licking his nipples, mouthing the hair on his chest. 

Spock drew McCoy’s trousers down his hips, kissing the small of his back. McCoy’s cock popped free, knocking against Kirk’s leg. Kirk closed a hand around it. Both he and McCoy drew in a sharp breath as he stroked it.

Kirk had never taken particular note of the size of cocks he’d encountered before. But it was very difficult not to take note of this one. Difficult to have his hand wrapped around the thick, long column without imagining how it would stretch him and fill him, no matter which part of him he took it in.

“I never realized how apt your nickname is, Bones. No wonder Spock made a point of asking for lube.”

“Shut up,” growled McCoy.

“What, you’re embarrassed at being so...gifted?” Kirk had both hands on it now. 

“Too many partners got fixated on it once they saw it,” McCoy muttered. Then he groaned loudly. “Spock! Have mercy, you green-blooded incubus! Backs of the knees are...argh.” He came close to buckling in Kirk’s arms.

“Fascinating,” said Spock. His hands and mouth continued their journey down McCoy’s legs. “I will make a note to investigate this further.”

“At the risk of seeming fixated...” began Kirk.

“Yes, yes. Go ahead and get it out of your syst—” McCoy’s words turned into a groan as Kirk went to his knees and took the cock deep into his mouth. “God, Jim! Where did you learn to do that? I thought you mostly liked women...” 

“I’m glad my recent lack of practice doesn’t show,” Kirk said, around the slurping noises he was making.

Spock stood back up. McCoy’s head fell against him. Spock draped him over his arm, upper back arched like a dancer’s. “Leonard,” he said in a low voice. “I have wanted...this...you.” 

His kiss was slow and deep as he brought them both down to the cushioned.

“Poor Bones,” Kirk remarked a few minutes later. “Having to endure _two men at once_ getting fixated on your cock.” 

The doctor made a desperate noise as Kirk licked a long, wet stripe up the shaft. Spock left off sucking him so that Kirk could have a turn, and lowered his mouth to McCoy’s balls.

~~~

“Uncle!” cried McCoy, writhing on his back on the floor. Kirk and Spock knelt over him, licking the product of his second orgasm off his cock and belly. 

Kirk sat up and touched Spock, gesturing that he should do the same. 

“Uncle?” said Spock, eyebrow raised in intrigue.

“Means he wants a break,” said Kirk. 

And now, Kirk realized, was the moment of truth. He and Spock were no longer concentrating on the doctor. They could not avoid the question of how they were going to interact with each other. 

He gazed avidly at the Vulcan, fully realizing for the first time how much he wanted him.

Spock cleared his throat. Kirk could detect the barest hint of nervousness in him.

“I believe this is one of those moments when humans typically employ the name of a deity as an intensifying expletive,” said Spock. “I hope I may borrow this usage without offense.”

”Yes, of course, Spock. I don’t belong to a religion that frowns on that.”

“God, Jim,” said Spock, “I want you.”

At that moment, Kirk realized that everything he’d thought he knew about how Spock _felt_ was wrong. Although he knew Spock wasn’t emotionless, in their day-to-day lives he sometimes treated him that way. And Spock accepted it.

He would never be able to use that convenient shorthand again. 

Spock drew Kirk’s mouth to his. He quickly took control of the kiss, and it was slow, and deliberate. Questing. Discovering. _Knowing._

After a few moments, he broke away to glance at McCoy. The doctor was leaning against one of the railings, looking extremely relaxed.

“Leonard?”

“Still recovering, but I’ll wager watching the two of you will hasten that process.”

Kirk took that moment to lunge at Spock, trying to take back control of their interaction. He wasn’t sure why. It was just something he did. And he usually succeeded.

Things were different this time. 

Spock returned his frantic kiss in kind, briefly, and then bore him to the floor easily, lying over him, pinning his arms at his sides.

“Not today,” Spock said to him, compellingly. “This time, _you_ are _mine.”_

Kirk realized Spock was, simply, correct. He was helpless to resist. Not that he wanted to.

Spock alternated between deliberate explorations of his body, slow massage of his aching cock, and deep kisses. Kirk fell more and more under the Vulcan’s spell. Parts of his body he hadn’t thought about in years had awakened and were longing for more attention. He was hard and throbbing and burning along every pathway of his nervous system.

Spock broke off a hard, possessive kiss. He gazed at Kirk as if he could lay bare his very soul. 

“I want to...fuck you,” he said quietly, in his deepest voice. “Like an animal.”

“God, yes!” Kirk wondered briefly what formal term for the act Spock had chosen to replace with the more colloquial one.

“I should let you know, my lubrication and semen might act as an aphrodisiac for you,” Spock told him. “That is how it works among Vulcans. But I’m only half-Vulcan, and I have had insufficient sexual experience with humans to know for sure.”

“Might as well give our hosts their money’s worth,” Kirk replied.

Spock made a low, satisfied noise. _“Jim.”_ He stood up and pulled his shirt over his head. 

Kirk admired his muscular torso, the dark nipples surrounded by black hair, which also made a trail down his belly, disappearing into his trousers. 

If Kirk didn’t know him better, he’d have sworn Spock was showing off his body for the cameras. Was this yet another secret about Vulcan sexuality?

The theoretical musings were driven out of his mind when Spock slid his trousers down over his thighs.

Kirk had seen pictures of Vulcan male genitalia, but the reality was many times more impressive and...just downright beautiful. 

The cock was darker than the rest of Spock’s skin. It was long, although not as big as McCoy’s, and slightly curved, with ridges encircling it near the head. Kirk was almost dizzy thinking about how they would feel moving inside him. It was also shiny with lubrication. To be honest, he felt a little envious.

He groaned with want.

He was still lying on the stage, propped on his elbows. Spock stood over him, definitely showing his dominace now. He ran one finger along the underside of his erection, picking up some of the wetness coating it. He knelt, straddling Kirk’s chest, and smeared some of the fluid across his lips.

Kirk licked at it. It tasted spicy and musky and he immediately wanted an entire mouthful of it. His lips were tingling sharply.

“I’m already so hot for you I can’t be sure if it’s affecting—” 

A tsunami of desire surged through him. 

_“—FUCK!”_ he finished.

“Will you be all right, Jim?” Spock’s face was strained from holding his own arousal in check.

McCoy broke in. “It’s safe, Jim, Spock,” he said. “I’ve read up on it, what with being the medical officer on a ship with both humans and Vulcans on board.” He groaned. “Now—watching you is driving me slowly mad. Please hurry.” He squeezed his cock hard.

Spock, still straddling Kirk, cradled the back of his head. The pretty cock hovered inches above his mouth, twitching eagerly.

“Open,” he demanded. He thrust it hard into Kirk’s mouth. “ _Suck it.”_ His voice was savage, the way Kirk remembered from that one other time. 

Spock’s dominance excited Kirk beyond his wildest imaginings. He moaned as the cock hit the back of his throat. More of the thick liquid flowed onto his tongue. He gazed up at Spock, doing his best to lick and suck and swallow, as Spock pumped it into into him. Spock’s head was thrown back, his eyes shut, his teeth clenched. Whenever he glanced down at Kirk—pinned beneath him, eyes watering, taking his cock deep—he groaned.

Too soon, and without climaxing, Spock pulled out. He leaned down and kissed Kirk long and hard. 

Kirk’s whole body was shuddering with excitement. If he didn’t get fucked soon, he was going to fly apart. Finally he heard the words he longed for.

”I think you’re ready for me now.” 

Spock slid down Kirk’s body, nipping at him, until he was kneeling between his legs. 

“Pull your legs to your chest,” said Spock. “I want to watch your face while—” He broke off with a groan of need as Kirk pulled up his legs and spread them, showing Spock his own arousal. 

Spock wasted no time getting his hands and mouth around that cock, swirling his tongue around the head, then slowly sucking the rigid shaft. 

Kirk moaned helplessly. He’d never before imagined _submitting_ to being sucked. God, he loved it. 

Spock sat up, leaving Kirk aching and throbbing. “A promise for later,” he growled. Then he was rubbing himself against Kirk’s ass...opening him...stretching him deliciously...slowly pushing inside... 

Kirk would always remember that the expression on Spock’s face at that moment was one of serenity. 

And he remembered the expressions that followed, chasing each other across Spock’s face, one after another.

Fierceness. Possessiveness. Surprise. Awe.

Spock had no need for emotional restraint at this moment, as he fucked his captain. His friend. His love. Fucked him like there was no tomorrow.

Joy. Ecstasy. Surrender.

Spock cried out, an almost eerie sound that reminded Kirk of wolves. He released again and again, hotly, still thrusting, until Kirk could feel some of his come oozing back out. Then he withdrew, but continued to ejaculate onto Kirk’s belly. 

All at once McCoy was between them, eager for a taste. He grabbed Spock’s hips and struggled at an awkward angle to get his mouth around his cock. Spock assisted him, grabbing his head and thrusting into him. Kirk could see McCoy swallowing. 

Finally Spock’s climax came to an end. He flopped down against Kirk, panting, McCoy pressed against his back. 

They lay all but inert for several moments...

...until Kirk and McCoy both gasped at once, as the effects of the Vulcan aphrodisiac hit them. 

The next moment, Kirk had taken McCoy’s cock deep into his mouth once more, and was squeezing his ass with his hands.

Then McCoy was doing the same thing to him.

It wasn’t enough. Kirk hauled the doctor on top of him and smashed his face against McCoy’s ass, his tongue seeking the puckered hole. McCoy all but howled in surprised pleasure, and that made Kirk even hotter. He probed deeper with his tongue.

Soon, McCoy yelled something—unintelligible around Kirk’s balls in his mouth. But there was only one thing he could be saying. 

“Fuck me, Jim. _Please.”_

He hauled at Kirk and they rolled again, writhing around until McCoy was on his belly with Kirk on top of him. 

The bottle of lube was on the other side of the platform. Kirk turned to a handier source of lube, reaching out for Spock, who was fully erect — again? Or still? He coated his cock and McCoy’s hole with the viscous stuff.

“Fuck me while I fuck Bones,” Kirk demanded.

“Mmmm,” Spock said. “ _Yes, Captain.”_

Kirk pushed McCoy into the cushioned surface and with a groan that brought an answering one from the doctor, pushed slowly inside him. Spock’s hands caught Kirk’s hips in an iron grip, and he was being penetrated in turn. 

Spock held himself still. He pushed and pulled at Kirk. One moment he was buried inside McCoy to the hilt, the next, Spock was sheathed inside him. All three of them were growling and groaning like wild animals. 

~~~

Afterward, Kirk could never remember how long they fucked like this. He only knew that he had to be very careful not to let the memories cross his mind when he was in public. Otherwise he’d have to excuse himself back to his room or to a quiet corner someplace (and there are few quiet corners on a starship) to take care of the arousal that would follow.

A few times, in search of that quiet corner, he’d ended up outside Spock’s quarters, or McCoy’s, ready to share the memory. 

Sometimes, there was no crisis that needed attending to, and all three of them would meet in the Officers’ Lounge, only to find they had someplace to be, urgently. 

Now, they were sprawled on the cushioned platform. Breathless. Limbs entangled. Come and Vulcan aphrodisiac secretions all over them. And in them. 

Kirk’s body felt effervescent. He was sure he was good for another few hours of fucking, although he didn’t feel driven at the moment.

A yipping sound came from a speaker near the ceiling. Then a voice said in English, “May we come in?” 

“I suppose we should get dressed first,” McCoy began, but then decided, “Nah. They’ve seen it all anyway.” 

The B’etti entered, carrying the tricorders, communicators, and other equipment that they’d taken from the team on their arrival, citing “electronic interference with the recording signals.”

“The demonstration was most enlightening and entertaining,” enthused the Presenter. “Our scientists are looking forward to studying this interesting form of biology. We know few species that require more than two participants for successful reproduction! You may return to your ship whenever you wish. A shipment of dilithium crystals has been beamed to its cargo bay.”

~~~

The away team stepped off the transporter pads, dressed once again (although their hair was still in disarray).

Scotty scurried from behind the console to greet them, wiping his brow. His face was an alarming shade of red. “Thank goodness ye’re all in one piece! When your signals disappeared, we were mighty worried up here. The B’etti said ye were giving a ‘performance’. Yer bum’s oot the windae! That makes no sense! The translator software needs a tune-up!”

“The translator software is performing to specifications...except for the trouble it is having with ‘Yer bum’s oot the windae.’” Spock copied Scotty’s broadly accented phrase faithfully. He ran his hands fruitlessly through his hair, but random tufts continued to stand up. “However, some of our assumptions might need tuning up.”

“Oh?” asked Scotty. “Not sure what ye mean, Mr Spock!”

“I’ll explain later, Mr Scott.” 

A few minutes later, the three members of the away team leaned bonelessly against the walls of the turbolift.

“Should we explain to them?” asked McCoy, addressing no one in particular. “The B'etti, I mean.”

“Explain, Bones?”

“They’ve got a backassward notion of human—and Vulcan—reproduction. They think it requires three males!”

“Let’s leave it for them to figure out,” Kirk replied. “Their universe might be a little weirder for a while. But that can’t be all bad.” He turned to Spock. “Mr Spock, as chief science officer, what do you think?”

“For all that I am dedicated to scientific learning and truth,” Spock said primly, “I see here a compelling case for adding to the mystery of the universe.”

The turbolift disgorged them near the officers’ quarters. They paused there for a moment, dithering.

“My quarters are the biggest,” remarked Kirk, staring down the corridor. 

“And you have your own water shower,” added McCoy. “The rest of us have to share the one in the officers’ lounge.”

“I have a bottle of Vulcan liqueur I was saving for a special occasion,” Spock said. “I’ll bring it.”

They temporarily separated, McCoy and Kirk headed in one direction and Spock in the other.


End file.
